“I told you that was a preposterous scheme before we started in upon it. You were the only one in the crowd who thought it would amount to anything.”
“How do you know so much?”
“Oh, I know—I heard ’em say so.”
“Then why did they take any part in it?”
“For a lark. It was to have some amusement with Tucker that those masquerade costumes were stolen and worn. I was against that piece of business, but Ditson had been drinking, and he was ready for any piece of recklessness. Give him a couple of drinks, and you never know what he’ll do.”
“Well, you’re about as ungrateful a runt as I ever saw!” declared Lynch bitterly. “I wash my hands of it. I’m through trying to help you. If you want to, you can go tell every one that you gave away the team’s signals.”
“You know I’m not likely to do that.”
“I don’t know what you’re likely to do. Why, I’ve even convinced our own bunch that Tucker was the guilty one instead of you. They believe it.”
“They pretend to,” muttered Bern, “but I’m not sure they do.”
“To tell the truth, a fellow can’t be sure of much of anything with them,” growled Mike. “Look at the way they skipped me last night! Wasn’t that fine? You did the same thing. You dusted out with the rest and left me to the mercies of the Merriwell bunch, or to roast.”